


In his love's eyes

by liliaeth



Category: In The Flesh
Genre: Alive Kieren, Christmas Miracles, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-04 00:50:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2903255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liliaeth/pseuds/liliaeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kieren and his friends visit London on Christmas</p>
            </blockquote>





	In his love's eyes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sad-simon-monroe](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Sad-simon-monroe).



> Thanks so much to my beta Cynosure for taking on a last minute beta job
> 
> And I'm so sorry to my recipient for being late on the deadline

Kieren stared up at the decorated trees in the middle of London. Everything around him was washed in a sea of color as he let Simon lead him through the marketplace. Amy and Philip were following a bit behind them. They almost lost track of the other two, as the couple was slowed down by Amy’s seeming attempt to stop at every single market stand she came across, either to taste the food, or buy some trinket that she wanted to feel against her skin. 

She’d cut her hair in a boyish cut. She’d said she was tired of the same-old, same-old, that she wanted something new to show off the new her. Or so she said. Kieren figured she was trying to hide the damage done by the doctors at the clinic, especially the part where they’d shaved off a bit on the side. Kieren wasn’t going to call her on it.

Kieren couldn’t blame her for wanting to be part of everything; part of him wanted to do the same. But instead he kept touching his fingers past the fabric of his gloves. If it weren’t for the cold, he wouldn’t be wearing the sweatshirt he did. He would have loved to be able to feel the itch of his mother’s jumper on his skin, something he’d thought he’d never experience again. 

It was cold, so cold, and yet, just feeling the pervading wind running through the air made his heart beat faster in excitement. Kieren had almost wished it would start to snow, just so he could be reminded of what it would be like to be covered under it. 

Simon hid beneath a big parka, a size or three too big. A gift from Amy. Kieren knew it covered up the ugly Christmas sweater that Kieren’s mum had given Simon, the one she’d knitted him over a month ago, and that Kieren hadn’t dared warn Simon about, even after he’d spotted the giant Christmas tree on the front of it. Even Simon’s taste for ugly sweaters didn’t stretch that far. 

And yet, when she’d handed him that sweater the day before Christmas, Simon had looked at it with his eyes full of wonder, almost as if it were the greatest gift anyone could have ever possibly given him. He could have taken it off before they left, but instead he’d kept it on, even after they left for the city. It made Kieren want to kiss his boyfriend whenever he looked at him.

He just wished that Simon could feel his touch, the way that he could now feel Simon’s.

The change had started a few months back, the day of Amy’s funeral, before the people from Norfolk had even dug up her casket. At first the symptoms had been terrifying: trembling, moments of forgetfulness. He’d thought that it had been after effects of the Blue Oblivion that Gary had forced on him. Then, when they kept lasting, even after he visited Doctor Russo, he’d thought he was going rabid, that his medication was starting to lose effect. 

Only… it wasn’t. 

One morning, he got out of his bed, without looking in the mirror, walked downstairs and poured himself a cup of coffee and made himself breakfast before he even realized what he was doing. 

His mum and dad had found him sitting at the kitchen table, eating toast and jam, and he hadn’t even realized what was going on until his mum stopped in her path and stared at him with a horrified gasp. He’d looked up at her and her mouth fell open. 

“Kieren?” she’d said. Kieren had looked at his hands, shocked to find they weren’t the pale white hr had at least gotten used to seeing, if not comfortable with. The scars were there; muted, closed, but there, a reminder, but fading.

“I don’t.”

“Kieren, you’re… your eyes.” 

Kieren had jumped up, ran up to the mirror in the bathroom and pulled the towel off the mirror. He’d just stood there, staring at his face, his living face.  
Jem had stood there in the door, confused. He’d pulled her in a hug and she’d fallen still when she felt him. She’d cried then, she’d cried and held him as he held her. 

He’d been scared of Simon’s reaction, yet partly hoping.

But when Simon came by, he was still the same, still undead. He’d stared at Kieren in shock. 

“You’re alive,” he’d whispered.

Kieren had kissed him, then and there, unable to stop himself, wanting to feel Simon’s lips, to really feel him. Kieren had let him, he felt so… silent. He couldn’t blame his mum for being spooked if he’d felt the same way. But he didn’t want to lose Simon. No matter what.

Simon tried to be supportive. He seemed scared that now that Kieren was alive, that he would turn against him. But how could he, when Simon was the first person he’d dared to love since Rick? Kieren wasn’t built that way. He couldn’t stop loving someone, just because they were dead, especially when they were still walking around.

Doctor Russo had been in shock when he’d showed up at the clinic. He had said he would send Kieren’s results to Norfolk, if Kieren wanted answers, but he had warned him that he wasn’t sure how far those people could be trusted.

All he could say without checking in with them, was that Kieren was alive. Different, not entirely the same as he’d been before he died. There was something in his blood, some kind of change that wasn’t quite … normal. But he was alive, his body no longer frozen by death. Russo warned him, told him about the people who’d shown up for Amy, told Kieren to watch out for them, or others like them.

It was the first time that Kieren had ever heard the man say something against Halperin and Weston. 

Kieren had asked him to keep quiet. 

He was alive. That was all that mattered to him. 

Over the next few months, more of the undead started coming to life. The press called it the Second Rising. From one moment to another, Victus went from public favorites to outcasts. It was one thing to hate monsters, but now even the still undead PDS sufferers were suddenly treated like they were stuck in a cocoon, just waiting to release a returned loved one. It was sick, but somehow it was hopeful as well. 

Simon was still undead, still waiting; he didn’t show any of the symptoms. But Kieren didn’t mind waiting. 

There was a shop in front of them and it seemed like it was the one that Simon had been waiting for. Kieren went up to him and looked over his shoulder. Books, all over the table. Simon said his Dad liked books. 

His father had sent him a letter. They didn’t talk about what had happened, they didn’t mention Simon’s mum. The letter just talked about Christmas and how much he was hoping for Simon to come by. Simon had stood there, stunned as he read the letter. He sounded like a child when he asked Kieren what to do.   
Kieren didn’t have an answer for him. 

What could he say was that his own parents had never stopped loving him. Even when they wanted to send him back to Norfolk, they still thought they were doing what was best for him. Simon’s father hadn’t. He’d thrown out his own son, treated him almost as bad as Bill Macy had done to Rick. 

Was there forgiveness for something like that, especially when the man couldn’t even seem to find the words to ask for it?

Kieren didn’t know. 

Kieren watched as Simon bought the book, holding Simon’s hand as Simon paid for it, and then dragged him off to the tree, staring up at the lights in it. 

They kissed, once more. 

And then Simon opened his eyes, his blue eyes, and cried.


End file.
